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Cardinal Sins Chapter 12

𓅪 Living with your vigilante boyfriends for the past year has been amazing, well, almost. Butting heads, old wounds resurfacing and a deadly threat still looming overhead could threaten the sanctity of everything you've ever fought for. Will you finally overcome your tainted past and survive the trials and tribulations, or will your relationships and your faith crumble under the pressure?

Rated: M | 16.1k | TW: violence, major character death | Contains: final battle, lines are drawn fem!Reader x Jason Todd x Roy Harper [masterlist] Previous in Series: Art of Rehabilitating Snowbirds

Chapter Twelve: I Am the Antichrist to You

The culmination of years of torture weighs on your shoulders as you step onto the deck, delicately lifting your ball gown as you do so. Either the weight will be removed by the end of the night, or you’ll be dead. Either way, you’ve come to terms with the likely outcomes, whatever they may be. It’s time to end this once and for all.

Flanked by your partners, you’re greeted by two men in identical masks who hold walkie-talkies.

Jason takes the lead here and speaks for the group. “Redemption.” His voice is silky and calm, completely fitting in with the rest of Gotham’s elite who have been through the same line as you.

Without hesitation, they respond, “For our mission.”

You nod in a way you hope is convincing, but you can’t help but want to roll your eyes under your mask. These people are so fucking insane and so fucking full of themselves at the same time. Regardless, you can’t help but feel a bit intimidated by it all. Similar to when you’d hijacked The Court meeting a week ago, you feel more akin to a drop of blood in a pool of sharks- like they all know exactly who you are and are just waiting for the word to start the feeding frenzy.

Roy extends a gloved hand out to you, which you take as you enter the threshold of the lively event. He squeezes your own gloved hand gently as you make your way through throngs of matching owl masks, effectively snapping you out of your doomed thoughts.

“Is everything alright?” he asks in a voice reminiscent of Ollie’s confident intonation. The realization makes you smile, ridding you of your sudden bout of nerves.

“Of course, my love,” you respond, feeling out your own character for the night. “We should go mingle,” you say as you glance around the crowded main deck with what you hope comes off as arrogance or confidence. While you’re attempting to focus on playing the part, your mind can’t help but wander, while your body can’t help but thrum with adrenaline, knowing what’s to come. For now, at least, it all seems calm, so you attempt to revel in the moment with Roy.

From behind you, Damian and Jason break off from your group with a slight nod in your direction as they head up to the bridge deck in search of information on the missing microwave emitter. Though Bruce said he hadn’t seen it boarding the yacht, you can’t help but feel that this ship is exactly where it’s hiding.

Slowly, you and Roy converse your way inside where the party is just as hectic. Tray after tray of champagne is offered your way, finally forcing you to take one for yourself and one in Roy’s stead. Once again, you’re faced with the dilemma of how to drink in this goddamned mask. The night is passing by quickly, and you hardly have time to keep up with each passing second as your mind centers around your goal.

Off to your left, you find a staircase down to the crew mess, which you know will grant you access to the cargo hold. Out of all the places to hide a two-ton machine, you get the feeling the bottom of the boat is the optimal hiding place. With your new destination in mind, you pull Roy close, whispering this into his ear.

“Cover me,” you finish as your silky red glove slips from his white one.

At first, Roy seems hesitant, but he knows it won’t make sense for both of you to get caught down there without raising suspicions. You can only hope you won’t run into any staff. Though you know it’s unlikely you’ll run into anyone, you still turn on your drunk-off-your-ass persona. Strategically stumbling down the crew stairs with your champagne flute in hand, you find the room completely empty. You don’t put the act down just yet, though, as you wander further in, stopping suddenly when you notice the kitchen bustling with activity on one side and a quiet hallway off to the other. Without missing a beat, you quicken your pace over to the latter, frantically searching for any form of door that would lead you further down into the boat. Upon reaching the end of the hallway with no sign of anything of the sort, you concede to make your way back up to Roy.

Suddenly, a microphone bursts to life somewhere on the main deck, all while you’re making your way back into the crew mess. Then, you see it. Just off to the side of the kitchen is a giant hatch on the floor. Bingo.

Shuffling around the daunting width of your voluminous ballgown, you sink to the ground in a puddle of red statin to tug the hefty latch open. It’s completely pitch black, so, with a quick look around, you sink down into the inky darkness. You keep nearly tripping on your dress as you climb down the ladder, so you instantly search for a light source of any kind as your heels hit the floor.

Just as you find the switch, you hear it.

“Well, well, well,” a familiar masked man drones. “Who do we have here?”

Just then, the single lightbulb bursts to life, strobing the room in dim, green light. The flickering, sickly-colored fluorescent light illuminates everything you need to see. You’ve walked directly into the lion’s den.

The emitter is very much where you suspected it to be, and, of course, it’s guarded by the very people you were hoping to avoid. Great. Without missing a beat, you hit the SOS on your comm system but are met by an overwhelming shock of static. Also, great.

“What should we do?” one of the men in an owl mask asks.

Scarecrow sighs, sounding disappointed with you, “I guess the festivities will have to start early tonight.”

There’s no logical way you can get out of this, you realize in a panic. You’ve sufficiently trapped yourself and can only hope that Roy will come to check on you soon and somehow see that you’re down-.

Two of the masks slip behind you at this exact moment. One leaves the hatch, probably to let the others know you were dumb enough to fall for another one of their traps, and the other shuts the hatch, effectively sealing you from the rest of the party. Now, it’s just you, Scarecrow, a member of The Court, and the elusive emitter.

“Don’t be afraid,” Scarecrow says through barely hidden delight as he slowly approaches you. “That part comes later.” Without warning, he rips off his familiar rotted sack, revealing the scientist from The Court’s tunnels. He must see the surprise on your face through your owl mask because he chuckles, sounding entirely unhinged as he does so. “You really didn’t piece it together?” he asks condescendingly as he stops right in front of you. “You really didn’t know it was me in the dockyards? That it was me in the abandoned subway station?” Now, he furrows his unkempt brows as his tone becomes angrier. “It was me at the warehouse! I’ve been here all along,” he now trails off quietly in amusement. His wide, unhinged eyes never leave yours through the eyeholes of your mask as he shakes his head with a smile of disbelief. “The whole time!” he repeats in an excited whisper as he takes another step closer. “I was the one behind it all,” he giggles, eyes still wide as he reaches up to caress your owl mask. He nods, seemingly off in space as he does so, though his eyes never leave yours. A chill runs down your spine. “It was my genius that led us to this exact moment,” he begins, “the gas! The emitter! The JK2 project is my baby, even though it’s named after the person who funds my research, the two is all my doing,” he laughs softly as his fingers brush against the visible part of your face. “You are my masterpiece,” he finishes with a rush of breath, mouth ajar, seemingly in amazement as he finally unlatches the mask, leaving your face barren to the tight quarters of the room.

“What is this, Crane?” you ask in an even tone, using the name he’d given to you when he’d held you captive the first time. You know you aren’t getting out of this situation easily, so stalling is the only thing left to do.

His hands leave your face, though he remains close. “I thought I was being quite clear. JK2 is the project that was born from my dream for control, to have my genius be seen. It’s a simple plan, really. The science behind this project, however, took years. You see, JK2 is a two-part airborne concoction; no one could see that the injectibles weren’t efficient,” he rambles intensely. “Langstrom never had a chance of figuring out the only way for total control was to vaporize the poison; he was so shrouded in his other experiments, he never put this project at the forefront of his research, but I did,”he exclaims through the frenzy of his thoughts. “I did, and I perfected it.”

“Perfected what?” you ask the crazy scientist again.

“They said without Cadmus, I never would’ve been successful in utilizing the Winter Rose for the second part of the serum, but The Court doesn’t know shit,” Crane scoffs. “They don’t know what I’m capable of, and my partner and I plan on using this to our full advantage. You see, when they release the first dose of my fear toxin, the entire city will be sent into chaos. That’s all they ever planned to do,” Crane scoffs, looking at you like you should find this funny, too, but you merely shake your head in confusion. He rolls his eyes at your lackluster reaction and continues, “That’s what they’d been injecting into you all those years ago until I finally stepped in. At the dockyards, at Cadmus, you really lived up to your legacy, lab rat,” he spits at you through a wicked smirk. “You’re the reason I’m still here today. All those homeless subjects we tricked into our trials died when I gave them the final dose, but not you.” His dark brown eyes stare deeply into yours as he caresses your face again, and for a second, you think he’ll lean down and kiss you, but what he does is far more unsettling.

You try to shake your head out of his grasp and step backward, but you’re subdued. From here, Crane leans in and deeply inhales the scent of your perfume on your neck.

“Get the fuck off of me!” you hiss, backing directly into The Court member behind you as you struggle to get away from the psycopath scientist. What your friends had deduced at the lab earlier was true, then… They really are planning to control the entire city through fear and mind-control. With the emitter completely hidden, your comms being down, and, you know, you being captured, you know everything’s fucked.

“You still haven’t caught on, have you? Even now,” he teases you like you’re mentally challenged. “Yes, JK2 stands for the person who’s funding it, but it also stands for the number of doses. It’s the second dose everyone should be scared of,” he finishes ominously as he stands flush against you. His mouth, still ajar, quirks into a smirk, “I’m finally getting what I’m owed. Everyone will know my name- they will,” he insists psychotically. “They’ll know my work. All of my hard work, finally in the light of a dying city that I’ll get to rule.”

It’s your turn to laugh. The noise pulls Crane out of his sickening daydream as he glances down at you furiously.

“You really think The Court of Owls will let you rule anything?” you scoff. “For someone who came up with such an intricate experiment, you sure are naive.”

“The Court knows nothing of what’s to come,” Crane says darkly. “They’ve let two rogues into their fortress, and now it will all come down-.”

“Two?” Was Joker really involved in all of this? You shake your head, guessing it would make sense since he’s the only living link to your life insurance fund that had caused all of this shit in the first place. Then, that means you really are as good as dead… You’ve been used up; your purpose is finally complete.

It’s then that a masked Court member attempts to flee, but Crane won’t allow his plan to be leaked just yet. Crane swiftly whips out a knife and throws it directly past your head to embed itself in the man, who slumps to the ground. You barely have time to react before the hatch is opened to reveal a flock of three men in owl masks.

“She nearly got me!” Crane exclaims, suddenly sounding hysteric and weak as he hurriedly climbs the ladder to “safety.” “She killed him! In cold blood,” he laments, panting as he does a complete 180 from the man who had been in front of you not even seconds prior.

You attempt to square up, but the three men descend down like, well, owls as the men quickly surround you. You know Crane wants you alive, but you honestly feel safer in the hands of The Court than the madman scientist waiting above you, looking down at you like prey. You quickly surrender and are hauled up to the crew mess, where they secure your hands behind your back with rope from the boat. From here, more Court guards surround you until you’re finally forced to walk back up the fated steps you took and back into the chaos of the party. You can only hope that your partners have eyes on you, considering the comms haven’t worked since you stepped foot in the hatch.

The spectacle of a perp walk they’re putting on for your small form would be comical if it weren’t for the fact that, you know, you’re in grave fucking danger. Unlike the other times you’ve come upon these villains, after tonight, they don’t need you alive for anything. This is it.

As you pass by the sides of the boat, through the storm lights on the stern, you see a sickly purple spouting from the stern, leaving a stark trail of indigo in the wake of the wine dark sea. Gotham Bay, as far as you can see, is seeping with whatever The Court is pouring into the ocean from the stern of the yacht, and there’s nothing you can do about it. If the abandoned subway tunnels are what they’re using for the first dose, it seems that the bay is where the second dose will emerge. How they’ll manage to move the emitter to and from each site, though, still eludes you.

You struggle against their hold, attempting to drop all of your weight into the restraint they have on you, but it’s in vain. You’re held a few feet away from the main stage and are forced to watch as two familiar faces make their way to the center of it. Grandmaster Owl and Talon officially begin the meeting, flanked by a fleet of armed Court guards as they face the excited crowd.

“We won’t want to miss this,” Crane whispers to you as his hysteric eyes carefully watch the members on the stage. “Well, I don’t want to; however, you might after this next dosage.”

You struggle again, eyes searching the crowd for your partners, but encounter tunnel vision as you come face to face with a sea of menacing white masks. The sun has barely set by an hour or so, and yet, here you are, already captured by the enemies. With a surge of static, your comm bursts to life, crackling before you hear Batman’s damning command to abort the mission. You snort humorlessly to yourself, wishing so desperately that you could just up and leave like he insists you do.

“Yes,” Grandmaster Owl continues with his speech, “it is really here. The night of reckoning.” The crowd erupts into roaring applause, thrusting their flutes into the air in early celebration. “As we speak, the first dose of our revenge has hit the Blackgate District of Gotham.” More applause, which Grandmaster Owl allows with a pleased nod of his head. With this, Grandmaster gestures toward Talon, who pulls up what appears to be live footage of a stampede. You watch in horror as the men scream and rip each other apart in the green haze of smoke that leaks menacingly from the sidewalk grates. How the fuck did they vaporize the subway system when you just saw the emitter in the cargo on this ship??? “Soon, we will be in total control over every single person in the city. I think it’s time we induct our new members who have made this entire plan possible. Without them, Gotham would continue to rot and decay under the wrong hands— hands that prevent us from ever seeing the light— no more. We are here,” Grandmaster exclaims, thrusting his fist into the air, “and we’re not going anywhere. It’s time we get exactly what we were owed two years ago. This is our redemption; this is our Gotham.”

The roar of applause that follows his speech startles you, though you shake out of it quickly enough as you’re suddenly forced towards the stairs that lead to the main stage. You struggle against your captors every step, but they shove you to the ground before you can undo their grasp on you.

Your comm crackles again with Batman’s worried voice, “Entire city- Clocktower, now… rethink plan… too dangerous.”More static, then, clear as day, his words send shivers down your spine, “ABORT MISSION. CARDINAL, DO YOU REPEAT?” You sigh, feeling helpless. The maze was one thing, drugged or not, it was you against Talon. Now, here on this ship, it’s you versus the entirety of The Court of Owls and, you know, not to mention Crane’s psychotic ass.

“Broadcasting... meeting on-,” static, and then, “screens downtown,” comes a warning from someone who you assume is either Spoiler or Oracle. The connection is too poor to make much out besides the words themselves. The warning is clear, though: The Court of Owls is no longer in hiding.

“To the man who’s funding this entire project, and to the brains behind it.” Talon toasts suddenly, seeming to throw off Grandmaster Owl himself. Before Grandmaster can berate his subordinate, you hear it.

That god awful laugh… Even above the cheers of the crowd, you could never mistake who it belongs to.

Joker.

Crane swiftly removes himself from beside you as he meets Joker on the stage, shaking his hand, then Talon’s, before finally addressing Grandmaster Owl.

“I’m afraid I’m not one for intricate speeches,” Joker starts, spurring light laughter throughout the crowd. “Never really had a crowd of mine stay alive long enough to give one, so I’ll keep this short by saying this,” Joker pauses, smirking as he peers around the crowded deck in front of the stage, “I always get what I’m owed.” At his words, his dark, sinister eyes fall upon you.

Crane, now equipped in his Scarecrow mask, begins fiddling with a briefcase you hadn’t seen him bring with him on stage. Before you can get a better glance, your captors tighten their grips around your bound wrists and force you to the last step of the staircase like a lamb to slaughter. Now, everyone can see you.

“Now, for the final ritual before the true madness begins,” Grandmaster says as he steps to the back of the stage where his loyal subject, Talon, awaits him.

There are murmurs as owl masks look around in question until the spotlight falls on you. You don’t bother to struggle as you’re pushed to the ground of the stage, wrists still bound. If your team didn’t have eyes on you before, you know they do now.

You see Roy first, his mask having been pulled off at some point. The redhead is currently being held captive some ways off with a gun pointed at his head as he takes you in. After further searching, you still can’t find Jason or Damian. Hopefully, both of them were able to stay undetected. They’re your last hope… Without their help, you’re as good as dead.

“Behold!” Crane hollers as he holds an odd-looking canister filled with toxic green liquid at your face. “This is the culmination of all of our hard work; this right here!” With this, Crane douses you in the sickening spray of his concoction.

You don’t think it’s worked at first as you rub at your eyes where the liquid stings at your skin, and then you sneeze. From here, it all goes to shit. While your run-in with Crane at The Court’s headquarters had already introduced you to the horrifying mix of fear and Joker toxin, you still didn’t feel prepared once you started feeling its familiar, overwhelming effects taking over your senses.

You sincerely hope that they’ll stop after this dose, content to let you wail and scratch at your face as you’re used to. What exactly will the second dose do to you when you’ve already been dealt a dose before? Would Joker’s hold over you be stronger than before? Would it counteract the original and dissipate completely? You really don’t want to find out. However, you don’t have much longer to fret over it as the toxin takes over your body. It’s stronger than you remember and definitely stronger than any of the injections you’d received in the past.

Stay grounded, you remind yourself as your breathing starts to hitch.

Stay grounded.

You attempt to keep your eyes upward, off of the madness in front of you, but the sky offers no sympathy to your plight. The darkness of the night has long since settled across the sky, sending you spiraling into its black, starless blanket.

“That’s right,” Crane’s voice is distorted, creepy, as he bends down to get eye level with you. Your eyes shift quickly as if unable to focus on anything happening. “Let the toxin in; breathe it in,” he goads you as he menacingly maneuvers his face right in front of yours. Now, you have no choice but to come face-to-face with the infamous mask he kept mentioning. “There is no hope. There is no savior.” You scream, attempting to back away from his mask that’s rapidly evolving in front of your very eyes. The grotesque potato sack he adorns swiftly takes on a more sinister form, seemingly coming to life as it does. Soon enough, maggots drip, then spill plentiful from the stitches of Scarecrow’s mouth.

Stay…

You let out a blood-curdling scream.

“Is it working?” You hear Grandmaster ask through the waves of panic that wrack across your entire being.

“Oh, don’t worry about her! She doesn’t have long,” Scarecrow coos psychotically. “The mental state deteriorates quite quickly after the first dose.”

It’s here that visions similar to the ones you experienced in the maze overtake your mind.

Grounded…

Stay…

All around you flashes, and then you’re surrounded by white.

“Hello?” you call out. Your voice echoes against whatever chamber you’ve been transported to. It’s now that you notice an inky blackness that oozes towards you. “Hell-OHHH?!”

Your hands clasp around your throat, pulling them back to find them dripping with blood. Joker’s familiar, uncanny laughter rings out in an instant, startling you.

You gasp, stepping backward into the last of the whiteness. The black tar surrounds you, and no matter where you look, the entire room is now submerged in its goopy threat. The silence overwhelms you until your loud thoughts from earlier suddenly shake the room. Your heels make contact with the thick, syrupy substance that quickly submerges you within seconds. All of the rejection, the tumultuous relationships, doubt, anxiety, and the doom of Gotham trudge through the pitch black tar that chokes your helpless body. Suspended in the debilitating weight of your distorted mind, you know there’s only one way to overcome everything.

You fight.

Joker, Scarecrow, and The Court all looming around you, watching you. Wishing, waiting for you to fail.

You fight harder.

Hands desperately grasping around your bleeding scar, you unleash the last of your stored breath in a rabid scream, a war cry, as the syrupy ooze slowly overtakes the last of your oxygen. Forcing your eyes open, the scene in front of you shifts as you take control back from everyone who’s ever stolen it from you. The tar cedes, leaving you once again in an empty room.

You pant, dropping to your knees as your red dress pools around you.

What is true fear? What does it really mean?

After fighting against fear your entire life, you finally piece it together.

Fear comes down to caring. A man with no fear has nothing. By being scared of losing it all, it only means that you’re willing to do everything within your power to prevent it. Regardless of fear, you have no need to be scared anymore. Especially not of low-life scum like Joker and Crane. You've come to realize that there's a poignent difference between the two words. Whereas fear comes from within yourself, being scared is someone else's doing.

Through the debilitating fog of your fears, you fight. You fight against Bruce’s approval, against the sins of your blood, and for a brighter future for Lian.

Water soon washes across the floor, filling the half of the room before you can even blink. Doubt fills your mind once again. Maybe you really haven’t learned anything; maybe you never will. Maybe you’re doomed to keep making the same revelations and, thus, the same mistakes forever. Before you can think further on the subject, water floods in from every angle, darkening the room as you struggle to stay afloat.

So, this is it.

No, like, really, this time.

With your head bobbing below the growing waterline, your eyes remain open, ready to take on whatever happens next. Regardless of the panic you’re feeling, you know that you’re in control. This is your mind.

Suddenly, you notice a sliver of light cutting crudely into the fast-approaching ceiling. Taking one last chance, you hold your breath, and with nothing left to hold you back, you surge upward and into the light.

You’re not scared anymore.

Gasping and choking on air, you find yourself back in the present moment, almost hazily. Your body, on the other hand, struggles to find solid ground as you continue to flail and jerk on stage as laughter continues to rack across your sore body. Everything about you is slower to respond as the drug crawls across your skin. If your reaction to this concoction means anything, it serves as a dire warning for what’s to come and more for the unaware people in the city.

The second dose comes without warning. Part of you expects to see even more fucking visions, but instead, you’re only met with the serenity of your own thoughts for the first time in a long time. Your brows furrow together in confusion, wondering if the final concoction somehow had severed the symbiotic bond that the previous doses had created. Even through the haze of the dose, your head feels clearer than it has in two years since the injection on the night your parents had been arrested.

Through the thrum of the drug-induced haze, your body continues to fight, Grandmaster’s voice manages to cut through. “Thank you, Joker,” his modulated voice warbles. “Without you, The Court of Owls never would’ve known about the opportunity of the fund. In thanks, we offer you shared control of Gotham City.” With this, you blink blearily as, beside your tensed, writhing form, Joker is offered an owl mask from Grandmaster Owl himself. “You are now one of us,” he finishes, then looks at Joker expectantly. Instead of eagerly taking the mask, however, Joker seems to contemplate it for a moment. “Is this not what you’ve always wanted?” Grandmaster asks him, sounding taken aback- scared. “Complete and total control?”

At this, Joker cackles, scratching evilly against your already weakened state, begging you to submit to the concoctions running rampant in your system. Still, you fight to refuse its overwhelming influence.

“With your name attached, it’s not exactly total control, now is it?”

It’s then that it all seems to click for Grandmaster. “You swore The Court could trust this madman!” Grandmaster spins around to face Talon, voice dripping in betrayal as he’s met with a taunting smirk from his subordinate. “You lied to me!” He pushes against Talon’s armored chest. “After everything we’ve been through...” his modulated voice trails off before erupting once more. “I LOVED YOU!”

Writhing in the abundant silky fabric of your sweat-soaked ballgown on the ground, you force yourself to retract your hidden claws to free yourself. Your mind is still fighting off the overwhelming, yet familiar effects of Crane’s concoctions, but you know the situation is getting dire. This shitshow is just getting started, and even through your clouded thoughts, it seems like the only way it ends is through all-out war.

In a voice so low, the only people who can make out his words are the people on stage, Talon offers Grandmaster Owl an explanation. “I merely said that I trusted the madman to lead Gotham to chaos,” he speaks through an obvious smirk, “I mentioned nothing of The Court.” From here, Talon solely addresses the murmuring crowd of owl masks below. “You see, ladies and gentlemen of The Court, our own Grandmaster Owl has been leading us astray with hopes of destroying us for what? To fall into servitude for a sad excuse of a man like the Joker? I think not,” his assured voice booms across the murmurs of agreement. With this, Talon quickly reaches beside him and knocks off Grandmaster’s mask to reveal…

“Samantha?!” a deep, familiar voice over your comms gasps. You can only assume it could have come from Batman, who’s likely watching the scene live from Gotham Square.

“A woman? As Grandmaster?!” The crowd is in an uproar as they come face to face with the blonde who, you note, had been at Bruce’s not even a month prior. So it really had been Samantha setting up the ambush that occurred at Blackgate. Your thoughts sporadically race to piece everything together, though it all ends up feeling like a fever dream.

“I say, it’s time that The Court of Owls goes back to our old ways.”

“It can’t be true… It’s not possible," Batman mutters seemingly to himself. "She can’t- she wouldn’t-,” he laments over Talon’s words. With each passing second, the quality of connection weakens until your comm system cuts out completely amid the midst of Bruce’s denial.

With the comms officially down again, you know you’re really on your own from here on out.

“You,” Samantha unsurely takes a step backward, “you betrayed me...”

With the crowd in uproar, no one can hear as Talon responds, “No, my dear. You betrayed yourself by putting your faith in a man who only wishes to conquer.” Without hesitation, he draws his sword and plunges it into her supple stomach, meeting her wide, betrayed gaze all the while. “We both knew it was either you or me. It was always going to end like this; I was just the first one to draw their blade first.” The crowd rallies behind Talon, voicing their approval through their savage chants. With Samantha’s body slipping completely from his sword, Talon reverently watches until her labored breathing finally ceases before finally collecting himself to address the rambunctious crowd. “FROM THIS DAY FORTH, I AM YOUR GRANDMASTER!”

While the crowd is still busy uproariously cheering on their new leader, you think you’re home free. You’ve nearly cut through the rest of your constraints, and no one seems to be paying attention to your catatonic disposition anymore with everything else going on. That is, until Joker comes up from behind and snatches you up.

With Samantha out of the picture, it seems that Joker quickly realizes that he’ll become the second scapegoat of the night. Before you can protest and finish the last of your sawing, Joker uses your drugged body as a human shield through the throngs of Court assassins charge after the two of you. Joker’s crackling laughter screeches gleefully from his pale throat as he dodges around the guard’s swords, teasingly moving your body in every direction they try to hit, all while you struggle fruitlessly against his determined hold.

“If I drop you, you’re as good as dead, darling,” Joker points out through a sinister smile like it’s exactly what he wants.

Regardless of his warning, you know he’s too fucked without you as a shield to follow through with his threat. Knowing this, you waste no time in using your unsheathed claws to mangle his back in an attempt to get him to drop you, but the madman seems largely unperturbed by your thrashing in his arms as he hauls ass all the way from the main deck to the bow. Suddenly, you’re thrown to the ground of the ship, where Joker finally gets revenge for his blood-sopped back courtesy of your gloves.

“IT’S OVER!” you scream as you pop back up. After finishing cutting through the last remaining threads of your restraints, you finally ready yourself in your fighting stance, albeit wobbly.

“Is it really?” he taunts. Without warning, he charges you, taking your weakened state back to the ground, where you attempt to get the upper hand. His ghastly, pale fingers claw at your face, undoubtedly retribution for the grizzly scratches you’ve left on his back. “Because it doesn’t appear that way from where I’m sitting.” As if to prove his point, he throws the entirety of his weight on you, forcing your head to snap back and crack against the wooden deck.

You gasp as the searing pain jolts across your skull, sending your head spinning even more than it already had been before. You’re completely stunned, your body unable to move, let alone think, as Joker begins howling above you from where he’s straddling your waist.

“Get the fuck OFF OF ME!” You throttle his thin neck while attempting to buck him off as you fight off the urge to close your eyes and give in.

“Hmm, I don’t think I will. You know what they say,” he trails off, gesturing his sickly hand around vaguely as he seems to ponder his words, then seems to disaprove them immediately. “What was it again?” he asks hypothetically, then smiles wickedly. “Oh yeah, ‘vengeance is a sucker’s game,’” Joker cackles as the assassins close in, “and, well, it seems, my dear, that yours can only be achieved at the cost of your own life.” With this, he returns the favor and strangles you all while looking down at you sadistically.

“You think I won’t pay that cost?” you respond as best as you can through the ebbs of hysteria and restriction from the clown’s hands.

“Honestly, I’m not sure, but I might just be dying to find out.” He begins to giggle at his joke, only to be cut off by you finally managing to buck his weight off of you and gifting him a clean right hook to his face. Before he can comprehend the shift in the fight, you swiftly get on your feet, cursing the height of your heels as you charge at the madman, using your gloves to slash across his face before following it up with a jab and another right hook. Though your second bout of fists is sloppier than your first, it gets the job done. Joker stumbles backward, screeching in maniacal laughter as he nurses the dripping blood from his face, emotionless eyes staring you down all the while as he slowly but surely becomes cornered. “How many times are you going to send me back to Arkham?” Joker drawls boredly, though his words leave your head spinning. “How many times will you and your little bat friends stick me in maximum security only for me to escape?” He barks a laugh, shaking his greasy green hair in faux disappointment. “I’ll play this game with Bats, but not you, lab rat.”

“AGH!” you scream as you spin around to hit him with a heel to the face. “SHUT UP!” Though your outburst only seems to amuse him even further. You don’t have time to wipe the cheshire grin off of his face before the other bad guys finally catch up. If you can barely take on Joker in your state, how are you supposed to take on Crane, Talon, and, oh, you know, fucking 20 Court ninjas all at the same time?! You’re so fucking fucked.

Just when you think it’s all over, you hear him.

“WHY DON’T YOU PICK ON SOMEONE YOUR OWN SIZE?” Damian shouts as he comes swooping down. His tux still looks perfect, aside from the glass confetti that now coats his shoulders after having burst through the windows of the bridge to get to you.

“And, just who might that be?” Talon taunts back easily as he eyes up his former protégé.

Damian wastes no time with words, knowing they’d be fruitless against a master manipulator like Talon, who’d quite literally just overthrown the entire Court of Owls in a matter of seconds.

“FIGHT ME, YOU COWARD,” Damian screams as he draws his sword, wasting no time in charging at Talon.

You don’t have time to sit around and watch, let alone help Damian seeing as Joker’s pushed you directly into the swarm of Court guards who ruthlessly begin an attack of their own. With your claws as your strongest weapon, you decide to test Luke’s claim about the indestructibility of the Nth Metal they’re composed of. Your claws clash against the swords and daggers, though each hit rings out painfully in your wrists. Regardless of the ache, you push through, slashing, kicking, and punching anyone in your way. Your strapless dress isn’t holding up well, but you don’t have time to hike it up as you take down one member of The Court after the other, pushing through the dizzying ringing pounding throughout your skull as you continue to fight off Crane’s dizzying medicine.

“You’ve grown weak, Damian!” Talon laughs easily as he disarms Damian and pins him against the ship. What Talon doesn’t expect is for Damian to spit in his face and kick him in the balls. He uses Talon’s distracted, not to mention disgusted, state to disarm him as well. From here, it’s fist-to-fist combat as they circle each other. “No,” Talon holds back one of the guards who’s attempting to intervene, “this is between me and the kid.”

“I’m not a fucking kid anymore,” Damian growls. “You don’t control me.”

“But I did,” Talon smirks before charging at your friend, “didn’t I?” They clash against each other, exchanging brutal punches before once again retreating to circle each other. In the meantime, you manage to take down another Court guard, though three more are on you as soon as you do. It’s a never-ending wave of black tuxes and white owl masks as they keep the pressure on you. “It makes you mad, Damian. I feel your anger clear as day, and yet you refuse to put an end to me,” Talon continues to taunt the ever-growing impatient man. “It makes you weak.”

“What makes a man weak is his need to have followers,” Damian hisses.

“And what of your accomplices tonight?”

“That’s the difference,” Damian says as he holds the new sword up against Talon’s Adam’s apple, “they’re not my accomplices; they’re my family, and I’ll do anything to protect them from people like you.”

Before Damian can do anything, Jason and Roy finally catch up to the fight. Unlike Damian’s pristine tux, Jason’s silk shirt has been ripped open to reveal his bulletproof vest, though he and Roy have similarly ditched the owl masks in favor of their typical domino ones. Roy’s hair is no longer slicked-back in the slightest. His fiery locks have become windswept, while the ripped sleeve of his shirt and lack of gloves reveal his bionic arm.

They swiftly take down the two guards who were getting the best of you before sweeping you up into their arms.

“We thought we lost you again,” Jason laments passionately. Without warning, your love pulls you in close, only pulling away to throw a stray dagger at an advancing soldier.

As if completely oblivious to the ongoing battle, Roy fixes your dress, hands lingering over every bare inch of your exposed skin. “Holy shit, baby. You look so fucking hot right now, you have no idea.” Through the waning edge of the toxin in your system, you manage a weak snort. “Are you alright?” he asks, suddenly sounding concerned by your odd behavior.

“It doesn’t really matter right now, does it?” It comes out harsher than you’d meant it to, and in retribution, you tug Roy down for a brief, comforting kiss. “I’ll be better once we’ve finished kicking all of these dumb owls’ asses.”

“Agreed,” Jason interrupts, expertly pulling you and Roy out of the range of one of The Court’s swords. “Let’s finish these motherfuckers off.”

There are only ten or so guards left and…

“Did you forget about me?”

You want to roll your eyes, but your head is already pounding with every slight movement you make.

With Jason and Roy still warmed by owls and Damian facing off against Talon, you are left alone to deal with Crane. In the back of your mind, you realize you haven’t seen the Joker’s garish face in quite a few minutes. You don’t have long to think further on it before Crane has, once again, taken an interest in you.

“I fucking wish,” you groan in a daze of toxin and what’s most likely a concussion from your fight with Joker. “You’re a nobody, man,” you start to diss him in hopes that it’ll buy you some time to get your head on straight. “What did you think would happen? That you would somehow fuck over both Joker and The Court of Owls? For someone who claims to be smart, professor, you sure are fucking dumb.”

It ends up buying you no time because Crane lets out a deranged war cry before charging at your swaying form.

“I’LL KILL YOU!” he screeches in your face as you pary his fists, wobbling backward through the force of his anger. “I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU!” You manage a few good hits, but he’s clearly got a vendetta against you- another one of his failed experiments. After a particularly hard hit your way, he uses your recovery time to unsheath a rusty sickle. “You’re just like the rest of them- FAILURES!” Crane spits angrily as he makes an unsuccessful swipe at you. “And now, you’ll die just like the rest of them: scared and alone,” he hauntingly taunts you.

This time, Crane makes sickly contact with your torso, slicing deeply into your skin and sending you to the ground below. You let out a pained yelp, feeling the sharp path of the chilling metal in your flesh long after it’s made contact. Your arms immediately shoot out to hide your seeping wound as you pant through the blinding pain that erupts.

Even though your body wants to do nothing more than curl up and wait the serum out, Crane advances on you as you lay crumpled up in a heap on the floor.

You’re done letting this psycho-psychiatrist motherfucker get the upper hand on you.

Thinking you’re more wounded than you are, Crane is sloppy as he approaches your downed form, armed with his sinister weapon. Before he can do anything, you quickly snap your leg out, catching his foot and sending him toppling over himself as he lands grotesquely against the wood of the deck. He cries out in pain, but Jason swiftly comes to your side, helping you to your feet and knocking Crane down hard once again as he attempts to stand.

“ENOUGH!” Damian suddenly barks. “You wanted me to kill because that’s what would make me more vulnerable to your tactics to get me away from my family. I see through it now, everything. I don’t have to kill everyone, but I do have to kill you. You’ll never change.” It’s as if Damian’s heard your inner thoughts, leaving you stunned. “I won’t let you manipulate anyone else like you did me.”

At this, Talon smugly drops his sword, and you watch as it clatters helplessly to the deck. “Then do it, Damian.”

“YOU THINK I WON’T?”

Talon removes his mask, smirking at Damian as he comes face-to-face with the man. “I know you won’t. You’re a weak, pathetic excuse to your bloodline, and everyone here knows it.” He goes to open his mouth to speak again, but Damian quickly silences whatever words he’d been forming with a clean slice across his throat.

Blood. A stream of it spatters crudely from Damian’s tainted sword to the polished wood below.

You don’t realize you’re screaming until your throat scratches and aches.

Damian hardly pays you any mind as, suddenly, The Court menacingly swarms in around him.

Before you can think too much about what Damian’s done, you hear Crane’s irritating laugh and force yourself to focus on the battle at hand. You can’t afford to be even more out of your head than you already are.

Unperturbed, Crane gets up and tries to tackle you backward to the ground, but you redistribute your weight quickly enough to send him sprawling once again. Normally, you’d be able to take this fucker down with no problem, but the lack of sleep, blood loss, and constant fighting over the past hours have caught up to you. You’re at your wit’s end, and you can only hope that you’ll continue to avoid getting killed as this never-ending night continues on.

Without hesitating, you do a bait and switch, leaving a confused Crane to stumble. With your opponent caught off-guard, you waste no time as you shove him backward, sending him sprawling into the pack of Court Assassains currently ganging up on Damian. The men topple over like bowling pins as Crane’s irate form makes contact with them, but Damian makes swift work of them now that he has the upper hand.

That just leaves…

“So, that’s where you’ve run off to,” you mutter to yourself as you catch sight of Joker’s sinister facepaint dodging around the corner. “YOU CAN’T RUN, JOKER!” you yell after him with hopes that someone on your team has heard and caught wind of the stupid shit you’re about to attempt.

His eel-slick green hair disappears into the crowded inside of the ship, leaving you no choice but to follow after speedily. His psychotic laughter sounds across the chaos of the ruined party of disgruntled guests. The pure ferocity of the chase sends them scrambling away from your erratic forms as you make your way further up in the ship.

“You’ll have to catch me first!” he laughs maniacally as he dodges waiters and members alike, brandishing a gun as he does so. From here, you’re not only dodging people but bullets as he aims the barrel carelessly behind him. “You’re no Bats, but I can’t deny that I’m having a ball,” he finishes sinisterly, smirking evilly as he references the first time you met at the Wayne Gala.

Another shot, this time, lands in the wooden cupboard inches away from your head. Through the adrenaline, the concoction has nearly run its course. The problem now, however, is the gushing gash that pulsates across your stomach, which leaves you struggling to keep up. You groan, subconsciously moving your arm to cover your leaking wound as you pant in exertion.

His grotesque laughter bubbles over until it’s all you can hear. Joker doesn’t hang around, though; no, he bolts for the double doors that lead out to the bridge deck.

With your heart pounding in your ears, you continue forward onto the deck that Joker’s cleared with his gun.

You stumble out onto the deck, the cold evening hair smacking you like a pistol whip as you face off against Joker. “It’s over,” you pant. Your arm still hangs tightly against your front, soaking up the blood that spews from Crane’s mark.

“Is it now?” Joker taunts with a smile as he aims and pulls the trigger. You dodge out of the way at the last second, or, well, at least you think you do because nothing makes contact with you. That’s when you comprehend the sound of an empty barrel. “Blasted fucking piece of shit,” Joker growls as he bangs the useless piece of metal against the ship’s railing before sending it flying toward your decrepit form.

You dodge it easily as you stand, corralling a panicked Joker to a dead end.

“You’re trapped,” you pant, weakly clinging to the railing beside you as you close in on him. Now, the madman has no choice but to bump into the railing behind him. Once he comes into contact with the metal, his chalky hands lazily lift in surrender. “There’s nowhere left to run to, Joker,” you hiss under the illumination of the ship’s lights.

The madman simply smirks at you, yellow teeth showing through as he does. “Now, who said anything about running?”

Before you can restrain him, he falls backward off of the bridge deck.

“NO!” You rush to watch his descent, only to see him land perfectly on a speedboat in the inky blackness below. It’s packed to the brim with his loyal goons who instantly begin to shoot up at you from the water. You fall to the ground, out of their range, as horror overcomes your body. Joker got away again. His words wring out cruelly in your pounding head: how many times will you and the Bat Family keep doing the same song and dance?

Through all the commotion, Jason finds you once again, though Roy still seems entirely preoccupied with Court soldiers who’d been tailing behind you.

“Where’s Joker?” Jason asks breathlessly as he rapidly looks around for the man. Even through his domino mask, you can sense the panic on his face as he awaits your answer. The bodies of Court members act as obstacles as he traverses the area to get closer to you.

“He went overboard!” you exclaim, pointing in the direction of his escape. At your words and without hesitation, Jason bails on the mission at hand to follow after the Joker. “Wait!” you scream after him, nearly using his name as you fling yourself against the railing to watch his descent into the darkness. “What about our promise?” What about us losing everything we’ve ever known?

Then, you think about Lian and the millions of kids in Gotham just like her who may not make it through tonight… The conflict stirs within you uncomfortably as you hear the telltale sound of a splash as Jason threatens to shake the unstable ground of the Bat Family once more.

In the midst of your conflicted thoughts, Roy calls out to you as he follows after where Jason had jumped off.

“We have to bail!” Roy exclaims. With this, he helps you over the railing, something you protest until you notice a stray jet ski a ways away from the one Jason’s revving. Coming to avenge their fallen members, more Court freaks spill out onto the bloodied deck, making their vendetta clear as day as they don’t hesitate to shoot. Below isn’t much better, however, as Joker’s goons are armed and running rampant on their own jet skis. “Princess, go!”

You don’t know who he stole it from, but Jason’s armed. He uses the gun to fire off rounds at the circling clowns approaching on speedboats while Roy takes care of the owl-masked shooters from the yacht. Without a second thought, you drop. Or, well, you try to.

“Scared yet?”

Crane.

“Of you?” you scoff weakly as sinister pain radiates throughout your entire being. “Never.”

He sneers, “I can fix that.”

Before you can respond further, he pushes you from where you’re straddling the railing and into the water below. Everything tonight has been so loud that you’d nearly forgotten what silence was until you’re submerged in the murky sanctuary of Gotham Harbor. Crane follows behind you and swiftly splashes next to you seconds after you surface, effectively ruining whatever measly peace you’d found.

As soon as he gains his bearings, he’s on you in an instant. Without warning, he pushes you under the surface.

Your arms lash out, struggling to find something to steady yourself on. As the seconds tick by, you feel that familiar sickly sting of anxiety in your throat. All of this is entirely too similar to what had happened in the tunnels… Instead of giving into fear, though, you push down the panic bubbling up with the last of your oxygen and, instead, think back to the pool party. In the pool, you were surrounded by everyone you love, people who helped you through this exact feeling you’re feeling now. Even though you’re technically alone, Roy’s right above you, looking over you with Jason in the water just a ways off. You can overcome this.

With this mindset, you realize that you’ll be okay, but you have to fight.

Your rapid movements finally manage to land a few hits on Crane, allowing you to escape his grasp briefly enough to swallow down some air before being dunked back down repeatedly. You’re losing a lot of blood, you’ve been suffocated and tortured- you’re losing energy. You won’t be able to last much longer like this. Regardless of your lack of energy, Crance’s toxin earlier didn’t work, and neither will this assault. You’re his worst nightmare; whether he knows it now or not, he will soon.

“This is what true fear is. I should know, after all, I am fear incarnate. I am the terror of Gotham. I am the Scarecrow!" he screams angrily as he pushes you under the waves again. When he tugs you up by your neck again, you’re ready. “Fear reveals the truth, it erodes the mind until self-control is nothing but a joke. Tonight, you will become what you hate the most, a-.”

You don’t allow him to finish his sentence. “You know nothing about me,” you pant shallowly. “You can have all the files on me, databases full to the brim,” he goes to come after you again, but you weakly push against his reach, “but you will never know me, Crane.” You land one sturdy punch on his face, reeling when pain erupts from your stomach laceration, then power through for another punch, leaving him briefly dazed. Good. “Not like how I know you, you pathetic, soulless, scumbag wannabe.”

The tussling commences again, and out of ideas, you bite him, leaving him to yelp out in pain. Luckily, the attack causes him to loosen his grip just enough that you can escape his hold for good this time.

You resurface, gasping for breath, and waste no time in swimming over to where Roy’s landed in the water and found the last jet ski. All the while, your red-headed partner shoots arrows from his automatic crossbow on his metallic forearm at assassins on Joker’s speedboat. Without risking a glance backward to see how much Crane’s gaining on you, you make it to Roy’s jet ski before Crane can. For good measure, you kick the sick fuck in his head right before Roy zooms off. The last thing you need is for this motherfucker to be towed along to cause more chaos than he already has.

“Hold on tight, princess.” Without further warning, Roy revs the engine and takes off after Jason, who’s nearly caught up to Joker’s speed boat much further ahead. “You’re a fucking champ tonight, you know that? When we get home-.” You must’ve made a noise because he stops his sentence in his tracks to risk a glance back at you. “You okay?” Roy calls back to you as he easily traverses through the path Jason’s cleared for you both.

“Yeah, better now,” you admit breathlessly right into his ear over the roar of the engine. You’re still trying to catch your breath from, you know, being drowned, strangled, and carved, but Roy takes it to mean flattery, leaving you to laugh gently.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he says as he shoots you a quick wink. In the depths of the dark sky, dawn threatens to peak through the cracks as it seeps across the purplish waters of Gotham Bay. The day nearing serves as a promise of the end nearing, so you latch onto the hope it brings. “With comms still down, we’re essentially going rogue at this point.”

“Seems like Jason realizes that, too,” you reply anxiously.

In no time, you and Roy catch up to where Joker’s speedboat is attempting to bump into Jason’s jet ski. Deep down, you know something’s gotta give in a situation as dire as this. After knowing Jason for so many years, you realize that it’s just a matter of seconds before he decides to take action.

Sure enough, when Roy catches up to ride along beside him, Jason looks at you, only you. “I’m ending this,” he growls over the roar of the motors. You make to grab him and haul him backward, only to stop yourself at the last minute from doing so. “I’m ending this for me, for you, for Babs, for all the innocent lives he’s taken,” Jason spits. “It’s over.” You realize, even with his statements, he’s asking for your permission. “Seems like Damian finally realized it, too.”

You think back to your earlier conversation. Are you really willing to risk your found family to kill the man who’s cost you and the ones you love so much? Could you allow him to kill the man not even Bruce could?

You search your heart for an answer you already know.

Tired of being threatened to capsize, Jason attempts to jump from his unstable jet ski onto the swerving speedboat. All the while, Roy continues to offer coverage as the two of you follow after him. More quickly than either you or Roy could’ve expected, Joker and his goons swiftly turn their barrels in your direction, effectively allowing Jason to board.

From here, all hell breaks loose.

Joker drops his gun in favor of throwing the goon at the wheel Jason’s way, who then elects to take over steering. Even though the boat had been unsteady prior to Joker taking over, now it could only be described as erratic. The uncoordinated and unpredictable path the speed boat takes makes it too hard for Roy to get close again.

While you problem solve how to get onto the boat, Jason’s on his own. You watch in amazement as he pummels lackey after lackey, knocking them out in quick succession. The ones Jason can’t get to, Roy manages to shoot with his arrows. That is, until…

In the moments between Joker noticing Jason’s aboard and Jason taking down almost all the goons, you find a small opening. Gathering up your dress, you hesitate, suddenly noticing the Joker’s focus aimed at you, along with his gun. Inadvertently, you gulp. In the blink of an eye, the gun is fired. However, it doesn’t make contact with you. No, instead of a bullet becoming embedded in your head, it’s found its way into Jason’s shoulder.

“NO!” you exclaim at Jason’s grunt of pain. You go to warn him about Joker reloading, only to have it be aimed again in quick succession. At the daunting sound of the ‘click,’ Jason looks down at Joker’s jammed gun, then tilts his head menacingly as he closes in on the clown. Once again, the goon takes over at the wheel.

This time, when you see an opening, you don’t hesitate. You fly from the seat of the jet ski up and onto the deck of the unsteady ship. Your sopping gloves desperately clasp around the weak, rusting balusters of the railing to secure your weight, but the jerky motion of the steering, coupled with the choppiness of the waves, threatens to throw you off. After a sharp turn, you yelp, nearly finding yourself under the engine of Roy’s jet ski. Jason, however, isn’t letting you go anywhere. Eyes clenched, you suddenly feel a sturdy hand wrap around your gloved wrist.

“I’ve got you.” At Jason’s calming voice, your eyes finally peek open. Okay, good, not dead yet. That’s always promising. “Stay sharp, babe,” he warns as he turns his attention back to the last of the henchmen who have taken to kicking him from behind. The nickname startles you in the best way possible. It’s the calm and reassurance from your love that everything will be okay, and selfishly, you believe it. Wasting no time, you drag your heavy, wet gown onto the chipping wood of the speed boat.

With all of the blood loss, the tendrils of fear toxin still in your system, and having been in the midst of this mission for hours at this point, it’s safe to say that your thinking isn’t at its sharpest. A quick glance Jason’s way proves he’s in the same boat. Well, literally and in the sense that he seems at the end of his rope. He has blood, whether it’s his or not, you don’t know, streaming down every inch of his body. His tux is completely torn, and your partner is panting so laboriously that you can hear it over the loudness of the sea. It’s dangerous to be fighting in these conditions, but at this point, you guys are the best and only hope Gotham really has.

While you should have been checking your six, you, instead, make the grave mistake of searching for a way to get Roy on board with you. This slip-up allows Joker the chance to sneak up on you. Though Roy tries to warn you, your reaction time is sluggish, allowing Joker to get the upper hand on you. The flimsy railing you used to pull yourself up with is in a weak enough state that the Joker easily manages to rip it from its corroded hinges before turning around to use it to beat you down to the deck before you can even realize he’s on you.

Roy tries to board to get to you, but with the railing gone, the sporadic driving, and numerous henchmen still aboard, he resigns himself to shooting as many arrows as he can without risking hitting you or Jason.

Realizing it’s all up to Jason to get the Joker off of you, your bloodied lover wobbly turns his attention to the Joker. What starts off as limping ends in a football tackle to the edge of the ship, close to where the railing has been removed. Jason’s on top and in control, beating the maniac to a pulp.

Joker’s assault only adds to the myriad of ones you’ve acquired from earlier in the worst way possible. Your head is pounding uncontrollably, and you undoubtedly have a concussion. Not to mention, your entire body feels seconds from passing out, which is definitely not a good thing. It’s the kind of hazy pain that makes you wonder if you’ll ever wake up once you go down. With the serum still lingering sickly in your system, you’d be blind to see that you’re more of a hindrance than an asset. Regardless, you fight, taking on the last three henchmen with serious help from Roy on the jet ski.

Blearily, you call out to Jason, warning him against what he’s doing. Surely, he’ll kill the man if his unrelenting fists keep up at the rate. You do, however, start to notice him slowing down, and only then do you see the extent of his wounds from tonight. If he was self-conscious about his scars before, surely these new ones would put the old ones to shame. He’s been stabbed and shot multiple times, with two large bumps on his head the size of tomatoes. How he’s even still standing, let alone fighting, you have no idea. One thing you do know, however, is that his wave of energy won’t last for long.

Sure enough, as you’re sloppily circling the last goon, Jason passes out monetarily enough for Joker to get the upper hand again. Drenched in blood, Joker begins savagely beating Jason to the point that he wakes up. With his eyes half-lidded from the punches, you can tell your love is completely out of it. There’s no way he can make a comeback from something like this.

“GO DOWN!” you scream at the last man standing, willing him to topple over into the bay and fuck off. In one swift movement, you claw the man’s face with your special gloves, then stab them into the giving flesh of his stomach. Upon contact, the man’s eyes widen as he stumbles into the railing behind him, leaving the ship without a captain. “Save yourself and fuck off now.” Without another word, your menacing claws retract, and the man wastes no time in throwing himself off the ship and into the dirty water. You take over the steering wheel, hoping Roy can finally board, but Joker brandishes a gun your way, cocking it as a threat. With little else to do, you jerk the wheel to the left, causing Joker to lose balance atop Jason before you cut the engine to the ship entirely.

You look around in a moment of indecision. No, it’s fear—not from any toxin, either.

You’re stuck.

Roy’s guttural scream of your name reaches your fear-stricken state and spurs you into action. You knock out the last goon and make a break for Jason’s near-unconscious body.

“Do it this time, clown,” Jason spits blood onto the clown’s face.

What Joker does next sickens you to your core. You watch as the lunatic disdainfully wipes the blood from his cheek and licks it. “Oh, I like that,” he growls darkly down at the dying man. “I like it a lot. In fact, once I’m done with you, I think I’ll move on to your little plaything- how about that?” Joker taunts. “It is, after all, her blood I’ve been after this entire time. Do you think it’ll taste sweet?”

Jason uses all the strength left in him to sock Joker in the jaw. “You sick fuck,” Jason barks through his bloody, battered face. “I’ll kill you this time, clown,” he wheezes painfully. “Count on it.”

“Well, your odds don’t look too good from where I stand, but, hey,” Joker’s voice drips lower as he presses the gun against Jason’s temple, “I always bet on losing dogs.”

Milliseconds before Joker can pull the trigger, everyone’s thrown back as the yacht explodes in the near distance. The speed boat nearly capsizes, leaving you to desperately grab for Jason and hold on tight as the aftershock beats against the boat. Off in the sky, you recognize Batwing soaring through the sky with a woman, followed by Jon, with whom you assume to be Damian. You realize that, with the yacht gone, it’s entirely possible that the second dose never hit Gotham. Everything is finally looking up. Well, that is, except for…

Joker’s momentarily distracted enough by the explosion that Jason’s able to knock the gun from his gloved hands. Without wasting a second, you stumble over to scoop it up before Joker can remove himself from Jason’s battered body. Though Jason and Roy both taught you how to use a gun long ago, the daunting weight of the metal is always so unfamiliar in your palms- threateningly so. Bruce’s warning comes to mind as you wield this weapon, but so do Jason’s and Damian’s. Still under the effects of the blood loss, you slowly take aim at the psychopath.

Having given up his safety to arm you, Joker manages to pin Jason again in his deteriorating state, leaving it up to you to call the brawl.

“STOP!” You point the gun at Joker. Jason’s green eye cracks open blearily through his shot-out domino mask. Blood trickles out of Jason’s mouth and dribbles onto the ruins of his ripped tux. The rip reveals more wounds that you know need immediate care. You can’t keep playing this back and forth with this psychopath, and everyone here knows it. “I’m begging you!”

“Or you’ll what?” Joker smirks. “You'll kill me with all of Daddy Bat’s rules? I’d love to see you break the one man who gave you everything,” he growls. "You'll never kill me, and when you don't, I'll just keep coming for you," he emphasizes every word with a growl. "After all, you have revealed all of their secrets, haven't you? You really think I wouldn't use that information against them? You really didn't expect me to finally take down every single one of you sky rats?" He barks out a laugh, then immediately stops and makes a faux-surprised face before smirking menacingly once again. "It’ll only get worse from here on out, I can promise you that, and you STILL won’t kill me,” he laughs in a hyena pitch before he pulls out a second gun and places it against Jason’s beaten forehead. Without hesitation, Joker presses the trigger, leaving you to fear you’ve fucked up by not making a decision, but it ends up merely being a trick gun.

“You’re never going to stop, are you?” Tears stream down your blood-spattered cheeks. Too many people have shed blood for years. You know you can’t stop Joker. No one can.

You can’t…

Roy’s calls grow more desperate.

Your heart pounds in your ears, your hands sweaty, as your mind flounders for the right course of action.

You realize that what Jason said was true, that what Damian did was more help than what Batman could ever offer. You realize that this entire night culminates in this moment right here, right now. That this is never going to end. Not unless you stop it.

Not even a few months ago, you’d promised yourself you’d stop Joker, that you’d save everyone. You just never thought you’d be forced to go against Bruce’s code. He was a man who’d given you a lot but not everything. Though you know you owe Bruce a lot, you owe a lot more to the beaten man on the ship’s floor.

As if noticing his show is coming to an end, Joker quickly switches his disposition, sending chills down your spine as he does so. “You guys ruined everything for me,” he growls sinisterly. “All I’ve ever wanted was chaos. All the rest of these morons only want money, power. Not me. I want to watch the world burn, and you,” Joker smiles your way, “were my ticket.” His intonation changes to unimpressed. “Now look where we are.” I’m going to kill him, then you, then your other lovers, and reveal who you all are under these masks to everyone. It’s not exactly a secret anymore after tonight’s brazen appearance, is it? Not the brightest idea to all go out of costume when your identity is so infamous, now is it, rat? From here on out, it’ll be a witch hunt for the rest of the Bats! Even when I lose, I still get what I want,” he giggles manically. Seemingly finished with his crazy rant, Joker finally lifts his fists to make the final blow, all while howling with laughter that can only be described as eerie.

You react on pure instinct this time. There’s no more chancing harm to the ones you love.

As soon as your finger curls around the trigger, the entire scene melts into slow motion, then, suddenly, at warp speed. One moment, you’re facing his demented, bloodied grin, and the next, you’re looking down at his hollow grin and limp body strewn across Jason’s. Your hand shakes as the gun clatters ominously to the deck. Even Roy, who’s apparently boarded and taken control of the speed boat at some point during the debacle, turns around from the steering wheel in disbelief.

Finally, the boat finally comes to a halt, crashing violently against the shore of Gotham Harbor’s dockyards—back where it all started.

Roy tries to talk to you, but you’re shell-shocked.

One step.

Another.

You help shoulder Jason’s weight.

Your eyes are open, but all you can see is…

One step.

Another.

You come to the edge of the speed boat and drop into the murky water below. You consider staying under the water, hoping that, somehow, the corruption of Gotham Bay could clean you of your sins, but you emerge with blood still staining your hands.

Roy tugs you forward, begging for you to look at him. Your eyes blankly meet his worried ones. His chapped mouth forms the word “swim,” so you do. Through the haze of shock and remnants of the serum, you subconsciously reach out to help support Jason’s dead weight as the three of you shoddily make your way across the short distance to shore.

Upon washing up on the rocky beach, you find yourself face-to-face with Batwing, Jon, Damian, and, surprisingly, Cheshire. Jon and Batwing are checking Damian over for injuries as you and Roy trudge closer with Jason’s limp body strung between the two of you. Quickly, Batwing comes to bear Jason’s weight. With Jason out of your hold, you collapse to the gravel of the beach below in pure shock.

“Are you two alright?” Batwing asks, briefly turning his attention from Jason to where Roy holds you in his arms.

At this, Roy looks down at you; his gentle light green eyes meet your hollow ones. “I’m fine,” he says, “but I know she has a gash across the stomach that needs to be looked at.”

“What happened out there?” Batwing asks. “The comms went out, and suddenly, the yacht’s blown to hell.”

It’s at this moment that Cheshire slinks over, emerging from seemingly nowhere as she makes her presence known. “That would be my doing,” she says. Part of you is completely surprised she’s hung around as long as she has, though you know it only shows her concern. “I’m not usually one for teamwork,” she trails off slightly teasingly, “especially not with people I’ve been hired to kill, but,” she lifts up her mask just slightly, revealing the cheeky quirk of her lips, “this was fun.” With this, she walks over to the water. Without hesitation, you watch as she kicks a goon’s dead body off of their jet ski before revving the engine. She nods at your crew. “Don’t count on a next time, though.” Somehow, you feel like she’s lying, though you’ve lost too much blood and sanity to think on it further.

You’re hollow.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you respond automatically, still in a daze of the past few minutes. You doubt there will be much of a next time when you’ve just lost everything. Bruce is going to barre you, if not hunt you down. Your dad is going to put you behind bars, and you’re going to let him. “Was the second dose unleashed?” you ask despondently, watching hazily as Cheshire zips away into the sunrise. Part of you rationalizes Bruce may not take the news so poorly if the yacht ended up blowing up before the second dose could be vaporized.

“No,” Batwing replies as he lays Jason flat on the ground with Roy’s careful help to perform a scan with his mask, “but the fear toxin was released across the entire city.” Apparently concerned with what the scan revealed, he calls over Jon.

Having deemed Damian’s wounds manageable for now, Jon comes over to tend to Jason’s deteriorating condition. From where you are on the ground, you notice Damian clutching at his shoulder before seeing two bullet holes wedged into the skin visible through his distressed tux. If Damian’s unable to stand up, you can’t help but wonder just what else has happened to him.

Jon’s eyes light up red as he x-rays Jason’s body for any fractures. Meanwhile, he picks up right where Batwing left off. “We managed to distribute the antidote in just under an hour, but it was looking really bad. There’s no way we would’ve been able to handle the second dosage going airborne.”

“We’re still monitoring the air for traces of the second dose just to be sure, but so far, all preliminary tests have come back negative. Mission accomplished, guys,” Batwing finishes with a smile. Meanwhile, your stomach clenches uncomfortably at his congratulations.

With everyone preoccupied with Jason, Roy turns his attention to you as he gently kneels on the ground beside you. “It’s over, baby.” You suppose it’s supposed to be reassuring, but his words only make the situation feel more real. It is done.

“I’m not proud of what I did,” you breathe in response as you avoid his sympathetic gaze.

“No one thinks that, baby,” Roy reassures you, all while running comforting hands up and down your bloodied arms. At this point, your dress is entirely soiled, soaked in a horrifying mixture of mucky water and blood. Your hair that had been done up delicately now entirely hangs freely in front of your blood-splattered cheeks and hollow eyes. “You did the right thing. I don’t care what these Bat fucks think;” Roy tilts your chin up, forcing you to look him in the eyes, “you’re always a hero to me, love. Swear it.”

Tears stream down your dirtied cheeks, but not for long. Roy gently wipes them away as you take in his tattered state.

“This isn’t looking too good over here,” Batwing urgently interjects. “We need to get his condition stabilized and fast.”

“I can fly him to Gotham General!” Jon offers, voice filled with concern.

“No,” Batwing shoots him down, “we need to get all three of them to the cave. We’re going to need backup.” With this, Batwing presses a finger to his ear. “We’re going to need medical, stat. Comms, do you read? Medical emergency at Gotham Bay. Repeat: medical emergency at Gotham Bay. Multiple Down.”

“I’m busy,” Batman’s gruff voice cuts through the fog of the last hour. “Nightwing, Spoiler, Red Robin: reroute to the bay.”

“Just what we need,” Roy huffs to no one in particular, “more bodies to stand around doing fuck all.”

Batwing tries again, “I don’t think you heard me, multiple down.” After a few more beats of silence from Batman, Batwing exhales deeply, “I guess we’ll take what we can get today.”

At this point, Jason, gasping for breath, seems entirely delusional as he speaks for the first time since getting to shore.

“Marry me.” Jason’s words tumble out as if each word costs an exorbitant amount of energy to do so. Regardless of his weakened state, he opens his palms, offering his hands to you and Roy. “I mean it,” he groans through his pain.

“You’re delusional, Jason,” you respond as tears stream down your color-drained cheeks. Regardless of the blood loss, Jason’s words still cause you and Roy to look at each other as if considering the actuality of the proposal anyway.

In a matter of minutes, Spoiler, Superboy, and Red Robin arrive on the scene, with Oracle pulled up live on Spoiler’s comm watch. They recount the pandemonium going on mere streets away, recounting much of their night as they flit back and forth, providing emergency care on Jason, but it’s nowhere near enough to actually stop any of the bleeding. He needs a medical intervention- no, a fucking miracle at this point.

Neither Jon nor the rest of the Bats seem to notice the dead body until they do. You hazily turn your head in the direction they’ve all quieted down to focus on. Even from where you kneel in the gravel, you can see a thick amount of blood streaming from the side of the ship. The pain from your wound is nothing compared to the pain you feel as you watch Batwing investigate, only to come back with the damning news.

“He’s dead,” he says despondently, as if not believing his own eyes. “Joker is dead.”

“What?!” Red Robin exclaims.

Instead of repeating himself, Batwing calls into the comms, “Joker is down,”

Rather than being met with silence like you were for his request for medical support, Batman radios in before Batwing can even give up control of the comm channel. “Coordinates,” Batman grits out cooly. “Now.”

While you wait, the disbelief is palpable. You’d have to be an idiot to ignore the sounds of dismay, the murmuring that follows such a violent finale.

“This never ends well, does it?” Spoiler shakes her head at Red Robin beside her. “Batman always talks about him and Joker being destined to kill each other, but I guess he was wrong…” At her words, Oracle bows out, silently sending Spoiler’s screen black as she does so.

Red Robin still appears too shocked at the news of Joker’s death to respond to his girlfriend.

“Jason did always promise to send the nut-job to the grave,” Batwing concurs. “I guess he finally made good on that promise.”

In what seems like seconds, a large black plane hovers above your head menacingly. The ship blocks out the rising sun as a promise of what’s to come after Batman hears what you’ve done.

Nightwing and Kid Flash emerge first, followed by a very irate Batman.

“Where is he?” Batman demands coldly. Upon inspecting Jason’s deteriorating state, he turns to you and Roy. “And the two of you just stood by and allowed him to condemn himself?”

Roy argues back easily, “Look at the state he’s in.”

“It doesn’t damn him any less.”

There’s no point in sitting around with him accusing the wrong killer. What’s the saying again? Damned if you do, damned if you don’t? Yeah, that seems about right.

“It was me,” you admit from where you’re on your knees beside Jason’s body, covering yourself in even more blood. Somehow, Jason’s blood feels cleaner than the bay. It’s reassuring in the most fucked up way possible, much as what’s to be expected after the fucked up shit show that was tonight. At your admission, everyone turns to you, but you’re more focused on Jason’s strained breathing. Even Red Robin seems to realize what a horrible state Jason’s in and quickly drops beside you and Roy to help put pressure on his seeping wounds.

Roy’s finger is still poised to argue from beside you, but Batman easily pushes past him and Jason to get to you. When Batman stops in front of you, he towers over your hunched-over form. “Do you understand what you did?” he growls, grabbing you by the front of your dress as he lifts you to face him. “DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU JUST DID?” he screams as he shakes you.

You’re bawling, understanding more than he’ll ever know.

“Please!” you beg helplessly.

Roy’s caught between keeping pressure on Jason’s wound and pulling Bruce off of you to fight him head-on. Jason’s condition ultimately takes precedence, and you’re left to face Bruce on your own.

“ANSWER ME,” Batman yells as he shakes you once again, causing your hands to come up and wrap around his gloved wrists for support. Finally, he releases you. Upon standing, you feel the jarring presence of your injuries come crashing back down upon your weakened body. Regardless, you use the last of your energy to remain facing Bruce head-on.

“It was Jason or him, Bru- Batman. I,” you sputter through the tears clogging your throat. “I thought-.”

“No, you didn’t think,” he chastises you coldly. “You acted out of fear. That makes us no different from them. No better than the man you killed,” Batman spits. “I can’t, for a moment, begin to forgive what you’ve done.”

“I did think!” you argue right back. “HE’S ALIVE BECAUSE OF ME!”

“And yet you’ve killed everything else in the process,” he says calmly. Bruce’s words silence your rebuttal in its tracks. “I told you that you don’t have to continue paying for the sins of your parents with sins of your own, but you have to believe it, too. I expected better of you.” He pauses before continuing, “You’re not to get on this ship. You’re not to affiliate with any of us from this point on. Understand?”

Understand that your worst fear has just come true just like that? You do. What you don’t understand is why he’s allowing this to go on so far when Jason’s in dire need of medical support.

Nightwing, Red Robin, and Spoiler take in the dramatic scene in disbelief, while Superboy, Batwing, and Kid Flash seem like they’d rather be anywhere else than in the middle of Bat Family drama. With the excuse of starting a search and rescue for those on the yacht, Batwing, alongside Kid Flash excuse themselves in favor of heading back out to the bay. Jon makes to go with them, then ends up lingering behind as if not wanting to leave an injured Damian alone.

“You’re a fucking cunt, Bruce,” Roy snaps as he gets up to lunge at the man, seemingly having heard enough bullshit. Before he can make contact with an unimpressed, dare you say suddenly calm, Bruce, however, Nightwing steps in alongside Superboy to hold the fiery redhead back. “You know that? You know how much she agonizes over being the perfect pawn for you?! Because you’re the only family she’s ever known? You know how much shit Jason takes just to be able to keep seeing you? Because he fucking cares about you? You take her in, you take Jay in, just to string them along like fucking puppets to do your bidding like some kind of… fucking- like some kind of god, Bruce!” Roy snaps. You’ve never seen the man so irate before, and you can’t help that it makes what you did, killing, feel like the right decision. “Is that what you think you are, Bruce? A god?”

Seagulls squack nearby, momentarily distracting you from the stand-off occuring as your family crumbles around you in real time.

“If I truly thought I was, there would be no need to suppress the urges I fight so hard against every god damned patrol, Harper.” Finally, some of his anger mixes back into his words. “I’m no judge, I’m no jury, and I’m sure as hell not an executioner. I make a promise myself every day that I never will be.” It’s all Bruce says in response before he turns back to you as if waiting for confirmation that you’ve understood his demands.

“I’ll follow through with your wishes.” Both men seem surprised by your words but quickly cover it up. You hang your head again, sighing deeply as you sort through your thoughts. Your anxiety thrums through your veins like electricity as you face Batman, no, your father’s disappointment. “This was life or death. Him or us.” You slowly begin to look up. “Even now, I still believe our lives mattered more than that murdering lunatic.”

Batman refuses to hear it. It’s as if hearing your voice, your reasoning, alone has riled him up all over again. “After all I’ve done for you- the apartment!”

This isn’t Batman. No, right now, this is Bruce Wayne in a Batman costume.

“I never asked for shit,” you spit back suddenly. “I don’t owe you anything, just like you don’t owe me anything. We’re family, at least that’s how I feel, and when you’re family, this is what happens. People fuck up; they ruin the god-like, perfect perception of them you have in your head, and you know what? If you love them, you don’t hold it against them for being blinded by your own delusions.” Bruce must know you’re referring to yourself as much as him because he looks away. “You may see me differently now, but I know that I’m the same person I’ve been growing into for years now, regardless of my blood or the blood I’ve spilled. Doing what was necessary to save someone who would sacrifice everything for me is my code. It always has been, and it always will be.”

You hope for some understanding or, at the very least, confirmation that he feels you’re family, but it’s in vain.

“We should argue about this another day. Right now, Jason needs medical stat,” Red Robin exclaims, cutting through the tension. Your eyes flicker from Red Robin, who’s kneeling beside his brother, then over to Jason’s pale figure. The man you love is unresponsive on the dirty, pebbled sand, and all the help you could ever need in the world is right in front of him, refusing him because of your mistake.

“You’re going to let my sacrifice be in vain?!” you suddenly scream, feeling the weight of every second come crashing down upon you. “Let your fucking son die on this dirty-ass beach while you watch him bleed out? That’s what he means to you? I don’t give a fuck about me right now, but really, Bruce? Don’t let it be in vain,” you beg now, stepping forward to challenge the only parental figure in your life. Now you’re side by side. Bruce faces forward, toward the Joker’s limp body, while you face toward Gotham and your found family. “I wouldn’t change what I did. Not now, not ever,” you swear as you turn your head, studying Bruce’s side profile. “You can lecture me on repentance later. Right now, Jason needs us.”

Bruce scoffs, clearly unamused with your reasoning. “As Jason said before,” he starts, “I don’t have to save everyone. I can’t save everyone every time.” His words seem to carry a weight you’ll never understand. At least, especially won’t understand when you feel .003 seconds away from blacking out from pure rage. He may not be able to save everyone, but he has the choice to save Jason right now. You scream, anger icily trickling through your veins, exploding across your entire body as you empty all your grievances into your shrill, guttural cry. Taking Roy’s lead, you confront Bruce head-on, weakly hitting against his armor to show your hatred for what he’s doing to your family. It’s not the power that matters, but the action behind it that does. This time, Spoiler and Jon hold you back, only to have Roy rip you from their hold as if to protect you from the entire flock. Teeth gritted, you beg Bruce to keep fucking with you. “However,” Bruce finally says, sounding resigned, “it doesn’t mean I won’t help.” With this, he disappears into the ship without another word.

Wordlessly, Nightwing helps Roy hoist Jason aboard. Roy shoots you a quick glance you take to mean that he doesn’t want this either, but it’s what’s best before he focuses back on Jason. Spoiler hesitantly walks over to the jet, looking at Red Robin, Superboy, and then you before ultimately stepping aboard.

“I’ll fix this,” Damian assures you through a wince as Jon helps him into the plane. “Once father hears what I did, surely I’ll be excommunicated as well. If not, I’ll fix it,” Damian promises. He lingers for a moment, looking out at the horizon with you, watching in silence as the yacht’s bow finally sinks beneath the murky surface. Without another word, he limps further inside, and the jet’s doors promptly close before speeding off into the waking sun.

Jon offers a smile that doesn’t reach his blue eyes as they rest upon the added red to your crimson dress. “Don’t worry, I’ll fly you home!”

“No,” you shake your head. “I deserve this. I may have taken a life, but I don’t want to risk anyone else’s tonight. They need you on search and rescue more than I do as an Uber.”

“But you’re bleeding out!” Jon exclaims with worry. “At least let me cauterize it.” After fighting so hard to stay alive all night, what would be the use of bleeding out now? Though he doesn’t hear your fucked up reasoning, he sees you nod curtly, squeezing your eyes shut in lieu of responding. With a gentle sigh, Jon grips your hand as support or reassurance, though you’re not really sure you’re deserving of either, being the cold-blooded killer you now are. Wordlessly, you bear down into the hold as his laser vision seals up your wound. Once the bleeding stops, Jon asks, once again, if you want him to take you home, something you, again, refuse. You know the only way to face this is alone. Begrudgingly, Jon leaves you to help with recovery efforts.

Facing your fear of rejection, of losing it all, you put one foot in front of the other as you stumble into the city you helped save. If you felt like a princess before, you definitely don’t now. You look more akin to Carrie than Diana at the moment as you trudge sullenly through the bustling streets of Gotham. Many aren’t in any better appearance after what just happened, luckily, so no one really bats an eye your way.

While you’ve won the day, you’ve nearly lost everything in the process. Being a savior isn’t as black and white as you once thought, especially not now when there’s blood staining your hands.

Everything changes from here.

The chaos on the street is nothing like you’ve ever seen. Storefronts have their front windows smashed in with people actively robbing them; bodies litter the streets with more being stacked up with every step you take. In the streets, cars and trucks litter the pavement like piles of petals after a fruitful spring. All the while, wounded citizens cry out in soul-crushing agony, and babies wailing rings out into the cacophony of a post-war Gotham. You can’t help but wonder how different this walk would be if the second dose had actually been vaporized, then sigh. How could doing something so obviously right feel so entirely wrong?

You’re two blocks away from your apartment when you notice a lost little girl. She’s no older than five, carrying a stuffie and wiping at her tears with a distressed braid you know Lian would offer to fix in a heartbeat. You briefly pause, feeling the weight of the night catch up with you once again as you do. You’re so fucking grateful that Lian is nowhere near this. You blink down at the little girl who’s yet to spot you, then begin to search around as you wait nearby for someone to claim her, but only chaos continues to close in around the child. Silently watching over this little girl, you can’t help but hesitate. What if you got involved and made everything worse? It seems to be the theme for tonight, and you’d hate to involve someone so innocent in your mess by somehow fucking up her life, too.

After wracking your brain, you will away the negativity and push forward, reasoning that something bad will surely happen if you don’t step in. As you approach, the little girl eyes you dubiously. You watch as her eyes catch on the red spattered on your dress, along with the large gash that Jon closed up. Regardless of how scared she acts, you continue to gently approach her. “Are you lost?” you ask gently. The kid looks around meekly before nodding hesitantly. “Where did you see them last?”

Though Bruce will never see this, it only proves to you that you know who you are and what you’re about. At the end of the day, you did a bad thing, but it doesn’t mean you don’t have the capacity to be good.

Hand-in-hand with the little girl, you don’t let go until you finally find her parents.

•••

By the time you’re entering the silent apartment, it’s nearly evening again.

This time, instead of Lian being locked out of the cave, it’s you. Well, locked down from the manor- no, family, more like it.

When Roy finally returns, he gives you as much information as he was privy to before being kicked out of the cave. You help patch each other up before collapsing onto the couch, exhausted. With Lian still with Dinah and Oliver for the time being, you and Roy crumble into each other’s arms, allowing the onslaught of pent-up emotions and grievances to unleash into the other’s hold. Hours later, Roy finally falls asleep next to you.

•••

The next day, or however many hours have passed, you can’t tell, Damian awakes you. The raven-haired man is sheepishly followed by Jon.

“We tried knocking and calling you!” Jon supplies awkwardly as you remove yourself from Roy’s bare chest.

“What’s wrong?” Though, the better question would probably be, “what’s right?” “Besides, well,” you trail off as the past few days catch up to your sleep-riddled mind, “you know…”

“I told father everything,” he says simply, though his response holds the entire weight of your world in its wake. “He is very... passionate when it comes to Joker. I think he was blinded by the loss of his enemy yesterday and the fact that it wasn’t at his hand like he’d always imagined. Give him some time; he needs it. Especially after everything I told him about Talon." Damian awkwardly tries to give you a reassuring smile, but it ultimately falls flat. "You'll be able to see Jason soon. I'll be sure of it."

The word soon is like a bullet… Actually, maybe not the best analogy, especially after everything that’s happened in the past 48 hours…

“Soon?” you question helplessly. It’s not enough. You need to be there caring for him, holding him, just as he had for you when you were gravely injured. With Bruce in control of the aftermath, everything you’ve come to know is utterly fucked. Regardless of how much you want to see Jason, you know it will only be in vain to further go against Bruce’s demands. Bruce’s control issues are of no concern to you right now. No. In fact, Jason’s health and recovery are all that you can think about.

“Soon,” Damian confirms. “Until then, I will keep you updated. I’ll take care of him.”

For now, you have no choice but to take Damian’s word.

A/N: not really edited rn! sorry if the pacing is off, i just really wanted to get this chap out today!

reallllly interested to hear what yall think about this chap! I've been setting up this scene ever since the dockyards chap of ars so it's seriously been a long time coming (also the title should make more sense now, too!)

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